Barriers
by JiyaiiPen
Summary: Egypt's kingdom is expanding, taking your village for its own. As its lone survivor, the raiders decide to present you as a gift to the Pharaoh, showing their victory. However, there is one problem: language. Coptic isn't known where you're from, and it's very difficult to live as a servant in a place where commands mean life or death. Eventual Atem/Reader, heavy mature themes.
1. Prologue

The sounds of screams filled the night air. The village you resided in was under attack from an unknown enemy, for unknown reasons. Wide [e/c] eyes tried to resist tears of panic, but to no avail. You could hear the galloping of hooves from outside your hiding spot: a small alcove in your parents' garden.

You curled in on yourself, as tight as your form would let you. The old wood of the hut dug into your bare feet, leaving small splinters in your soles. The white of your gown contrasted with the dark mud walls of the hut, though it was dirtier now than earlier. Despite this, you could only hope that no one could see you.

The sudden shout of a man made you jump. He was far too close for comfort's sake… Almost directly outside of the thin wall you hid behind. From the sounds of it, he was barking an order to someone. Hardly a moment passed before you could hear a feminine voice.

Your mother.

She screamed, begging the invaders to show mercy to her people. Her pleas went on, the sound of her voice growing ever closer and more frantic until she was abruptly cut off. A dull thud hit the wall to your side, making you gasp. Clasping your hands to your mouth, you cried silently. The invader called out, earning a group cheer of some sort. The pitter patter of feet approached your hut, making you tense.

A tanned man peered in, a torch in his hand. You could see his mailed armor shine beautifully from its light. A surprised expression crossed his face before he turned back.

You had been spotted.

There was no going back now, you thought. As soon as he left, the man came back with two others in matching armor. Rather than metal, the men were clad in leather, thick wings spreading across their chests. The one in metal spoke to you in a commanding tone, but all you could do was silently shake in fear. He spoke again, the words sounding very similar to what he had said before. The torch illuminated his face, showing a pair of black-lined, brown eyes: a common trait of those from the neighboring kingdom of Egypt.

You knew of the powerful Egyptians, with their Coptic language. It was similar to your own, but with just enough differences to make them completely separate. Your parents told stories of their rulers who conquered lands near and far, and being on the far side, no one really expected a sudden visit from them. At least, not without warning.

When the metal-clad man received no response, one of the others in leather spoke up to the man in charge. He was deep in thought for a moment, perhaps thinking of what the other said. A smile crept to his face, and he nodded. Another order came from his lips, and both of the leather armored men ran off, leaving you alone with this man of power.

He stood over you, a tower of authority. The torch flickered, lighting his face from beneath showing sunken eye sockets and a deep frown. He stepped closer, his freed hand pointing at your chest then flicking upward. Assuming he means to stand, you do so. Very slowly, you rise, back against the crumbling mud wall. A clinking sound turned your attention from the man in front, to the one behind. Leaning over ever so slightly, you could spot the familiar shape of shackles.

 **A/N: Hello there! I'm very excited to be publishing this story, as I've had the idea for quite some time. I'm new to the writing community, so I appreciate any feedback you may have!**

 **On a side note, the story itself may change ratings. I have it marked T for now, but I am unsure as to the progression of events. There will be violence and swearing, along with suggestive themes. As to how detailed it gets… I'm unsure. Please, feel free to let me know what you're interested in!**


	2. Ch 1: Travel Companions

**! Please note there there is violence in this chapter, along with a few grotesque descriptions. This is your warning. !**

Many days had passed since the destruction of your home. Since then, you have been traveling with the raiders, alone.

After you were shackled, the foreign men led you through the decimated dwelling-place of your people. The mud huts were destroyed, laying in pieces beneath the wooden frames that once held them, and the few solid wooden buildings that stood tall, the pride of the village, were now smouldering. The dim glow from the char lit your path, barely showing the complete nature of what had just occurred.

To be honest, you were thankful for this vagueness. Perhaps someone made it out alive too, somehow. You could only hold onto hope, for the facts were skewed at this point. Maybe your mother was simply smacked and your friends, off playing hide and seek with the raiders who were most _definitely_ losing. Even through the hopes and dreams, you couldn't bring yourself to smile.

The desert sun beat on you, making you sweat out what little fluid you had left in your now weakened body. The raiders, now able to be seen in all their supposed glory, were atop chestnut colored stallions. The leather armor had been shed and replaced with thinner linens, showing their built tanned skin glistened in the sunlight, small beads running down their bodies. Even when prepared for the scorching heat, they were still out of their element here.

A shout came from the lead man, bringing all the others to a halt. You felt a wave of relief wash over you. Just a short break was all you needed... The burdensome chains you were dragging this whole way were now limp in front of you, the edges rough and unpolished. You closed your eyes for just a second-just one, short second-and collapsed, landing on your side with a soft thud in the pillowy sands below. Breathing became suddenly difficult. The dry air made your lips crack and left a burning sensation in the back of your throat with every inhale. The small granules would find their way into your mouth, giving an unpleasant texture on your dehydrated tongue. No matter how hard you tried, there would be no saliva to swallow, and nothing to soothe the pain from the countless days of walking and torture.

Another thud came from your left, a dismount. You could tell, as this has happened toward the start of your journey west. The man screamed at you, the words flowing through your ears as you wished water would down your body. A swift kick to your side made you roll over, a mere 'oomph' escaping your bleeding lips. Looking up, the man was clearly irritated. Hatred burned in his eyes, as Ra's light did on the world. He was the same one as the other times, you were sure. The notable scar on his left pec was the give away.

You accidentally made eye contact, something you thought was a mistake considering every time you did so, a smack would land itself upon your face. He lashed out, aiming for your back with a new weapon, a whip of some sort. This one, however, was much shorter. Short, and with many mini-whips attached to it. Expecting only one strike like the previous times, the sudden spread of the whip on your back caused a cracked scream to erupt from you. Another shout came from him as he brought the weapon down again in the same spot, but with much more force. You could feel something drip down your side for just a moment, when yet another lashing came from above, changing focus to the greater pain.

A choked sob came from your parted lips. The man had stopped the lashing, instead, resorting to pulling you to your feet by the scalp. He said something, most was just nonsense to you but you could recall one word you learned through friends: eahira, or whore. He smacked your right cheek, sending your eyesight elsewhere, anywhere but him. Through blurry eyes, you could make out a large, yellow bricked wall in the distance. A push from the back sent you on your way. From this, your back ached, throbbing from the abuse and the stinging from salty sweat.

As the group marched closer to the walls, you couldn't help but look up in awe. This was Egypt. All of this, was Egypt. The place you could only hear stories about but never see. "The land bathed in golden rays, with golden seas, and golden people", your father would say. He had traveled there but one time, hoping to start a trade deal with the nation. However, he was turned away. Later in his re-tellings, he would say things along the line of 'I wouldn't want to be involved with those cruel people, anyway'. With the experiences you have had so far, you can understand his reasoning.

Upon reaching the grand gateway, guards in front conversed with the raiders. Some shared laughs, and others pointed at your withering form. After a few nods, the men went through the wooden gate, tugging you right along with them into the town.

 **A/N:**

 **So, not much happens here, but I really wanted to sell the whole 'this was life in the day', deal.**

 **Oh, and not to worry. The story will pick up in the next chapter, I promise!**


	3. Ch 2: A Warm Welcome

The town was a place the Gods would reside, you could swear it! Carved sandstone formed buildings along the road you traveled on, and colorful fabrics draped from the rooftops. Small palms appeared now and again, along with bright green shrubbery. There were even stringed flowers of pink, blue, and violet falling from wooden arches above your head. People adorned in white ran about holding wicker baskets full of even more colorful items, their destinations unknown to you. You could even hear a small band of musicians with their lutes in the distance. Not even your homeland was as colorful as this place, and you had plenty of gardens to behold...

Upon reaching the town square, your jaw dropped. Here, the magnificence of Egypt shown through. wooden stalls of many sizes littered the circular area, holding a wide variety of food and odd objects you've never seen. Homemade discs of bread, dates, and cabbages were everywhere, and even one stall offered fish and meats which were difficult to come by in your small village. Off to the side, there was a tall, slender man atop wooden slats, preaching to the people who would pass by. He waved a blue and red clay jar around, offering a closer look to a younger woman. She was curious, as were you.

On the other side of the street, people sold fabrics of white, yellow, and red. Even blue was seen in rare spots. Another merchant had a table full of glass. Tall, and spindly with a whole rainbow of colors on just one piece. Jewelry was at another stall, and at another, pottery. An animalistic grunt brought your attention to a nearby camel. Its owner wearing a striking red tunic with small accents of gold. His camel hauled rolls of papyrus and blankets, either for sale or just purchased, you didn't know. Either way, you knew it wasn't cheap.

Passing by even more stalls whose contents were fragrant spices, you could spot children playing games with little figurines. Their skin was still pale from not being in the sun too long, and the parents stood by, making sure no one got into trouble. Truly, no one was suffering in this place. The average person could walk through the market to buy a few things with coin left over for another day. Everyone looked healthy, even happy. Even the elderly walked about with help from a walking stick instead of staying at home, waiting for death to take them.

A tug at your chains reminded you to pay attention. Looking ahead once more, you saw the king's palace: a large, sandstone building with elaborate paintings of the Gods and Goddesses on its exterior. A wide, tiled staircase lead up to the main entrance. Palm columns held a wooden overhang, making the area much cooler. Delicate lotus patterns decorated the wooden door at the top of the stairs, red and blue paint showcasing the detail and craftsmanship. The men guiding you dismounted their horses and pushed you toward the stairs, their hands sending pain through your back once more.

Why were the raiders leading you inside? Why were the guards _letting_ you inside? Your mind raced with possibilities as the doorway opened for you. The straw sandals that once covered your feet were shredded, allowing your bare soles to touch the cool tiles of the palace. Red and beige checked tiles led up to a risen platform where three very well dressed people were, surrounded by fine drapery. The leftmost one wore a stunning blue robe, golden jewelry further accenting his status. His hat, too, might symbolize something, you mused. A snake on a tall hat… Such strange fashion these people had, the rich at least. The man's face was stern, sending glares wherever his sharp eyes looked, which happened to be at you.

The woman on the right was fully covered in a tan dress, with a far less gaudy gilded belt around her slim waist. Her face was shrouded by a hood of the same color, flowing well past her shoulders. Upon her forehead was a golden bird, widespread wings framing her face. She was much more calm than her companion. Shoulders were relaxed, her gaze slowly turning from the raiders, to you.

The centermost man was seated, leaning forward. His hand cradled a tanned face, framed by strangely styled blonde hair. The rest went back, deep colored brown turning to… purple? It even came to soft, fluffy points. Foreign fashion is quite strange indeed, you thought.

He bore a curious expression: a slight tilt of the head and an arched brow. A smirk quickly danced across his mouth before resorting back to a displeased frown. Sitting straight, he allowed you to get a better look at him. Gold was _everywhere_. This man put the other to _shame_. His head, arms, legs… Even from his ears hung thin plates of carved gold. Was he even sitting on a big chair made of it?! Gods, you never imagined riches like this let alone seeing it in person! _On_ , a person!

A swift kick to the back of your knees sent you to the ground, chains hitting tile with an echoing clunk. The raiders fell to their knees as well, minus the pain. Their heads faced the floor, showing respect. You copied, not wanting to get into more trouble.

Silence hung in the room for a moment. Tension was building inside of you. From the front of the room, a voice bellowed out. Deep, and smooth… Elegant, even. The man to your left jumped, giving a small 'um'. He cleared his throat and replied, voice ever so slightly shaky. He rose and continued to talk, pulling you along with him. Deciding it was now okay, you looked back to the trio on the platform. The center man looked pleased with what the raider was saying, whatever that was. He reclined back into his chair, gave a nod of the head, and sent them on their way after a small cloth bag was handed to him. Wherever they went, you went, so you tried to follow. The clinking of the chains sent one of the raiders back, leading you back to where you once were. Frustrated, he sent you to your knees again. He jabbed a finger at you, then to the floor. 'Stay', he meant.

The raider ran off, trying to catch up to the others who had already exited. The door shut behind him, leaving you with these foreign-to-you people. Your attention was brought to the front once more by a cough. The blue robed man stood tall, arms crossed. He eyed your meek form, then looked to the seated one. He whispered something, earning a smile from the gold clad man. They exchanged more words while you kneeled there, hoping for a bit of clarification.

With a huff, the blue robed man left the room while the seated man then stood, stretching. The woman bowed. She offered a few soft spoken words, then departed as well. Paling, you looked back up to the lone man who stood atop the platform. The booming voice from earlier came back, directed towards you. You jumped, not understanding.

The man then stepped down, and walked towards you. Expecting a hit, you shut your eyes. Instead, the rustling of fabric made you look back up. Royal purple eyes met your scared [e/c] ones. You gasped, scooching back on your knees. He quickly grabbed your chain bound wrists, pulling you back. Softly, he asked something. You stared blankly at him in response. Furrowing his brows, he repeated the same sounds, but slower.

He was getting frustrated, you could tell. If the raiders were violent, and this man being in charge of them, you could only imagine what type of punishment you could receive if you didn't respond, and _now_.

"I… I don't understand you, sir", was all you could get out.

Although soft spoken and laced with worry, he heard you. Violet eyes widened, finally realizing the issue at hand. He stood, offering you a hand. You looked at it, then back to his face. It was a soft look, unlike that of his.. Friend, perhaps? Assistant, maybe?

You took it, standing back up. You could feel the blood rush back to your feet, and bruises started to form on your knees. Quickly, he spun you around and held your shoulders firmly, as to not get a protest. You felt heat rise to your face as he ran a hand down your exposed back. His hand was cold, just ghosting over the wounds those men inflicted. How they managed to ruin the gown your mother made you with simple lashes escaped you, but thank the Gods it was still covering the rest. You shivered, wanting to cry from both pain, and shame.

The man let you go, turning to face his throne again. He called something... 'Mana', you heard. He repeated the call, until a young girl came running out from a hidden hallway. Her brown hair bounced with every skipping step she took until she reached the two of you. She smiled genuinely, and gave a quick bow. Looking toward you, she asked something. The man put a hand to her shoulder, then motioned with the other toward you. His face was almost sad, you noted. He said a few words, one you could actually recognize: "saeid", or "help". The girl, who's name you assume was 'Mana', gasped, a hand covering her mouth. She spouted phrase after phrase, the man smiled softly at this. He nodded once more, spoke a short phrase, then looked back at you. Showing his hands, he brought the small bag to your face to show you. The same one the raiders gave, you noted. You blinked at him, tilting your head as response.

From within, he pulled out a silver key. Again, he showed the contents and knelt down, unlocking your ankle cuffs. They fell to the ground, the freeing 'clink' sending butterflies through you. Next were the wrist cuffs. He held you firmly, but as to not harm you. He was close, to where you could smell myrrh, cardamom, and other spices about him. Not overwhelming, but enough to stand out. He fiddled with the lock and key, struggling for a moment. You could see his brows furrow, and lips pout slightly. A cute action for someone of importance, you mused. How intimidating. With a satisfied smirk, the man dropped the cuffs to the floor. He released you, rising back to his feet. A quick phrase was said to Mana before he abruptly turned to leave.

You stared at the man's back as he walked, your heart pounding. A deep blue cape flowed behind him, just barely out of reach from the tiled floor's grasp. He really must be of substantial power… Not the average leader, maybe not even a king, but 'God' status to these people. No one has access to so much gold, or dye. Even his hair was able to take on a light shade of violet at the ends, the most difficult color to obtain…

Mana started to chat, startling you from your thoughts. After you glanced her way with a look of confusion, she laughed lightly. She looked at you, an apology in her honey colored eyes. She must have been told of the language problem, and forgotten just that quickly.

She gave a 'follow me' motion with her right hand. Just now, you noticed a wooden staff in her left. A magician, you wondered. But wasn't that just a fairy tale for children..? Perhaps a question for another day. Today, you were focusing on living in this foreign land, with foreign people, and foreign customs. A small voice peeped into your head, speaking softly.

'Survive'.

* * *

 **Word Count: 1,970, just shy of 2K!**

 **Happy Friday, everyone! I would just like to say thank you so much to those who gave me feedback on the previous chapters! I'm very glad you're interested in the story! I'll be updating on Fridays from now on, just so you have something else to look forward to on the weekends.**

 **If anyone has comments, questions, or concerns, please let me know! I'd be more than happy to address them in the notes in future chapters.**


	4. Ch 3: R&R pt 1

After the brief and confusing meeting between yourself and the mystery people, the bubbly spirit called 'Mana' led you through massive halls of the palace. Red paint was the most popular decoration, highlighting miniature carvings of all sorts of different things. Plants, animals, people… Like the hallway was a big story to read. It was a maze of a place, for sure. This palace was bigger than your whole village, it seemed.

After minutes of walking, you finally came to a stop. An open doorway led you into a room with shelves lining the walls all the way around. Small and medium sized clay jars lined the wooden shelves with different paints and etchings on the exteriors. Lower on the shelves were chunks of wood, and woven blankets, similar to what that merchant carried earlier. Plants were strewn about the room as well, some living in pots, and others hung from the ceiling by string. Toward the far wall was a cot of sorts: a simple wooden frame with leather strips to create a hammock.

You noticed the room was odd smelling as you stepped in. It wasn't terrible, but not entirely pleasant either. It had all sorts of different scents from something earthy and sweet, to a heavy musk, to exotic perfume oils. The strength and blending of the smells made your stomach turn.

Mana led you to the cot, lightly pushing you to sit. You did as such with no protest. She gave quick 'stop' motions with her free hand, then turned to face the room. Dropping her staff next to you, she looked about the room for something. Pacing over to a shelf, Mana picked up a squat clay jar with red painted symbols. She came back with a smile. Using her free hand, she gave a 'turn' motion. You eyed her cautiously, but allowed it. She doesn't seem like a violent person, after all. You faced the wall, sitting cross legged on the flimsy cot which groaned underneath your weight.

From behind, you could hear a sharp intake of breath. From the reactions you've received, it wasn't pretty back there. How you managed to sustain such injuries was beyond your comprehension. A blessing from Shai, or Apis, maybe. The land you came from was one coveted by Egypt for some time due to religious connections after all. Maybe it was the dwelling place at one point. You never did delve too deep into the lore… Even still, maybe Shai blessed your family with luck, or perhaps… Just you, considering the circumstances. You hoped the Gods would be with you through these tough times. So far, so good.

Something cool touched your wounds, making you yelp. Mana reacted the same, pulling back with a startled 'eep'. You looked back to her, wondering what was going eyes were wide, and eyebrows upturned. Was she scared..? Or, maybe she was concerned. Mana showed her right hand to you. It held a thick yellow liquid, gently flowing toward her delicate fingertips. She brought it closer, thinking you would know what it was, and that, you did.

Honey. It was used at home for this, too, you remembered. When you were younger, you would frequently come home cut up from adventures in the wilderness. Your mother always had two jars of honey at home: one for consuming, and one for wound treating. The jar Mana had seemed to look very similar to your mother's as well... Small, baked red clay with little etchings of honeybees around the rim...

She tried to reach out again, albeit very, very cautiously. You turned back to the wall, allowing her to resume work. The coolness came back, along with a dull ache down your spine. She slowly rubbed the honey along your back, covering the entire surface. A small breeze whisked through the room, sending shivers through you.

Taking your hand, she placed one end of a linen roll in your palm and led the rest around your torso once, then twice. Taking back the end she gave you, she stuck it under the rest she had already wrapped to secure it. Continuing her process, she used up the rest of the linen on your wrappings, gently patting then to make sure they would stay put. She was so gentle, so kind, unlike the raiders who gave you our first impression of Egypt. Even the leader of the group was kind enough to free you from your restraints...

You couldn't help but wonder how long you've been here so far. It felt like days, but you've entered the palace just a few hours ago. These people were treating you as though you were friends, yet like the dirt beneath their fancy sandals. No one knew who you were, nor could they speak to find out. You glanced toward Mana, who was heavily involved with your wrappings. If they would get twisted, she'd delicately unravel the mess. On occasion she'd add more honey which at this point, you couldn't even feel. She was taking good care of you, a miracle on it's own compared to the raiders who wouldn't even bother giving water on the trek here.

When Mana pulled away, you turned your body back to face her. She was smiling, ever so slightly. She must be a very bright person, being able to smile through this. You could tell it was difficult for her, what with her gentle touches and motherly coos. But, she managed. She turned away, walking back to the shelf where the jar was found. She knelt down, picking up a woven blanket from the shelf beneath. She passed it to you, along with a small wooden log. The log was gently sloped on one side, like a cradle. You looked at the log curiously, never having been given a random piece of wood. When you took them, she put her hands together like she would pray, and rested her head on them. Somehow, you understood her vague signs which told you to sleep.

Carefully you adjusted your weight on the cot. Mana watched your movements intently, making you feel a bit legs stretched out, sending needles to your feet. You noticed deep bruising just above your ankles where the cuffs once were. You reached out to touch them but Mana quickly took your wrist, babbling nonsense. After a quick scolding she pulled on your wrist and leaned in, giving a gentle hug.

This was the first sign of affection since the morning of the attack so many weeks ago. There were plans for a village gathering the next night. Your mother wanted to be the cook, providing her famous lentil soup, and a date based sweet for dessert. You volunteered to gather ingredients for her from the small town market, taking a small woven basket from her hands. After a hug and kiss on the cheek, you left her behind. Unknowingly, that would be the last time you would ever see your mother. You ended up sidetracked by friends and their silly stories, them telling tales of their latest adventures outside the village. You stayed out late that day, coming home to an empty hut. Shrugging it off, you went to your small mat to sleep, and that's when the invasion happened.

You wept on Mana's shoulder, squeezing her tightly. It was wrong to hug your captor's shoulders, even though she probably had no idea as to what happened that night. Perhaps, no one does. The man you assumed was king seemed too kind to make an order to demolish an entire village… Nonetheless, the deed was done. Your livelihood, gone.

Mana broke the embrace, wiping away a tear on your cheek. She seemed to be as close as she could be to a sister without knowing you. You prayed it wasn't a facade. Begging for comfort, for rest, for anything that wasn't emotional or physical pain. The past few weeks were so harsh…

Mana gently pushed you back, letting you readjust if your wounds were causing pain. She pulled the blanket over you, tucking it behind your shoulders. The warmth of the blanket contrasted the cool night air of the palace, making you drowsy. The last thing you heard was the soft pitter patter of feet exiting the room, letting you fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hey there everyone! I'm sorry about the late update on this chapter... I fell ill the past week and couldn't stay awake enough to do anything, not even homework...**

 **Anyway, thank you so much for the kind words! I appreciate the feedback and follows! If anyone has questions or comments, please, don't hesitate to ask!**

 **As for this chapter... I decided to break it into 2 parts. It's a bit of a filler chapter at the moment, but things will pick back up. I also wanted to explore Mana being unable to talk, which was interesting to say the least!**

 **Thank you again, everyone! I hope the story continues to your liking!**


	5. Ch 4: R&R pt 2

When you awoke the next morning, it wasn't by your own free will. The wooden door burst open, the blurry silhouette of Mana standing in the open archway. She darted in, a bright smile on her face and began to chat, rattling off random words and phrases you couldn't make out. Something about 'water', and 'help' you managed to pick out a few times. Your vision still blurred from sleep, you saw her hand waving back and forth. 'Come on', probably. She bounced with anticipation whilst waiting.

Slowly, you began to sit up. Your muscles were stiff, and the cot's groaning matched you feelings. Swinging your legs over the side, you stretched. You could feel the crystallized honey on your back, or maybe they were scabs. Probably both, really. The skin tore away from them and reopened some wounds, earning a soft 'ow'. Mana didn't seem to notice as she kept talking, now swaying with her words. Finally, you stood meeting her, eyeing her curiously.

Before you could protest, she spun you around, taking a quick peek at your wrappings. She peeled back a small portion, allowing you to feel the painfully sticky mess peel off ever so slightly, taking a few hairs with it. She released a breath from behind, replacing the bandage. She turned you back, giving your shoulder a light pat. She smiled, which made you return the gesture.

You were healing. The damage wasn't so bad, and a night of actual rest helped. You licked your lips, brushing over a particularly large crack. Mana took notice, giving you a small leather pouch. Twine was tightly wrapped around an opening and it was heavier than it looked. The weight shifted when you examined it, giving away the liquid contents. _Water_. You looked to her, eyes begging for the liquid. She waved the back of her hands toward you, palms down. A genuine smile graced her features, eager for you to open it. You pulled the twine off forcefully, sending it to the ground. In your haste, some spilled out but you didn't care. There was more waiting for you. Tilting the pouch upward, you guzzled the water down, relishing in the coolness.

With the water drained, you gave the pouch back to Mana whilst bowing your head as a sign of thanks. She picked you back up, giggling. Were you supposed to bow to her? Why would she laugh if you were..? While you pondered her status, she yelped and smacked her hands against her cheeks, holding them there briefly. She spat out as many words as her tongue could handle before running off again. Dumbfounded, you stood there. All you could hear were the distant echoes of her footsteps through the hall, and a clatter of metal. Shortly after, shouting of men.

Imagining the scene that happened out there, you laughed ever so lightly. From what you've seen of Mana, she probably ran into someone. She was kind, albeit a bit airheaded. You admired this, hoping to see more of it in the other palace residents. The king was neutral so far having not shown much emotion one way or another, and the blue and gold one seemed… Touchy. Perhaps he was an advisor, having to be serious at all times. Maybe one day you'd find out.

After waiting around for a few minutes, you poked around the room you were in seeing as there was nothing better to do. Leaving the room was not an option. Guards could assume the worst, which was not something you'd want to get involved in. You neatly folded the red dyed blanket you were given and placed it in its rightful spot on the shelf, and sat the wooden pillow next to it. Picking up a small, plain blue jar, you peeked inside. The smell and dust bombarded your senses, making you cough. Strong, and spicy with a hint of sweet… It must be cloves. Mother cooked all the time with them and especially loved tea with it.

Setting that one down, you opened the lid to a red one with… well, you didn't know. A round shape with lines through it, and a water drop on top..? It contained a thin yellow liquid that smelled _awful_. Sour, rotten, and it almost hurt to smell more of it. It was even curdling, having chunks of white float in it. You wanted to vomit what contents you had in your stomach, which wasn't much. Quickly replacing the lid, you moved onto a hanging plant hoping for relief which never came. It was dried, with the flat leaves crumbling away. You sniffed it, earning no smell at all besides 'leaf smell'. Disappointed, you moved onto another jar sealed with a cork. This one had a few markings painted on its baked surface. A couple of circles stacked on one another, some blobs, and a vase at the end. Interesting form of language, you mused.

Before you could pop the cork, Mana rushed in with an older woman whose arms were full with a basket of white fabrics. She gestured to you, talking to the elder who was clad in a basic white dress. The woman nodded at Mana's constant babbling. She spoke so quickly, how could the poor woman understand?! You just stared blankly, wondering where your life could possibly go at this point knowing Mana was in control.

With a twirl of her staff, Mana vanished before your eyes, drawing your attention back to reality. You looked to the woman who was as calm as could be. She chuckled, eyes scrunching up from her puffy cheeks.

"Yes, she is something, isn't she? So full of energy and light… A true magician."

Somehow, your eyes widened further. You could feel tears peeking through, overjoyed you could understand someone! Clasping your hands to your mouth, you cried happily. You held yourself back from hugging the mysterious woman, albeit barely. Instead, you could only shake with excitement.

The woman's voice came back hoarse, but gentle.

"We can talk on the way. Please, follow me." She turned away, following the same path Mana did earlier.

With zero hesitation you followed. Your bare feet slapped against cool tiles, sending a shiver through you. This caused a light back ache, but nothing compared to the past. All along, there was someone who could talk and no one came to help translate..? This could only mean she was forgotten about until now, you thought. Convenience at its finest.

"Now, what's your name? Mana kept going on about your injuries but never gave me your name."

"(Name)", you said. There was no way you would give up the opportunity to ask questions, and so it began. "What's going on? Why am I here, and why can you speak my language? And, and since you can, why didn't anyone get you earlier when the guards were here and the-"

"Yes… You have many, many questions, as you should! I should introduce myself, first. My name is Kazemde. To answer one of your questions, I was the wife of a foreigner… He happened to be from the small nation the kingdom took over recently and-"

"But-"

"No buts! Haven't your parents taught you not to interrupt? Though, I suppose you will breathe some more life into this place…"

Kazemde paused her walking, wheezing. Deciding it would help, you took the basket from the woman. She gave a meek thank you, and resumed her walking. She had a fire in her despite crumbling on the outside… Interesting.

"Now, another answer for you. We're getting you cleaned up. The pharaoh doesn't keep his servants dirty." Kazemde nodded to herself and shook her now free wrist, remembering something. "Ah, yes, yes… I was told you are a new servant. A gift to the king, as it were."

Before you could begin to open your mouth, her voice piped back up. "Now don't you interrupt me again. Doing such to someone else could cause you problems, (Name). They won't be as forgiving. Anyway, go in that room there," she said, motioning to a planked doorway.

She opened the door for you, allowing you to walk freely through the arch. Inside was a large pool of steaming water, encased in grey stone and surrounded by fanned plants. Water poured in from holes in the walls, continuously filling the pool. It was refreshing having steam surround you, droplets beginning to form and roll down your forehead. Kazemde took the linens back from you, placing them near the poolside.

You looked to her for instructions, having never used an actual bath before. Rivers were the easiest place to bathe at home, and this was a far cry from that. A simple order of 'strip' came from her lips, causing blood to rush to your face. She turned around, allowing you some privacy.

Slowly, and very carefully you disrobed, setting the tattered gown at your feet. Originally it was as white as the linens that rested near you. Now, it was the color of death: stained brown and red, with the fabric itself looking yellow as though it had aged 100 years. You asked if you should remove the bandages, to which she said she would help with after you picked up a towel, which must be the sheets of fabric.

"Cover yourself, dear. I'll remove the bandages gently."

Obeying instructions, you allowed the woman's wrinkled hands to cross your shoulders. The bandages there lifted easily. The farther down she moved, the crustier and more painful it got. You could feel the scabs lift, but remain in place. Kazemde hummed to herself as she worked. Her fingers were light and nimble, working through the layers as though she has done this many times in her long life.

"You are healing well, (Name). Mana did an excellent job on you. There will be scars, but they shall all fade in time," she said. Her voice was certain, breathing a sigh of relief to you. In a short time, all the wrappings were removed leaving you in just a thin towel. She motioned toward a shallow staircase which led into the steaming tub. "Be careful, and don't go too deep. Stay in the shallows."

Staring at the water, you tugged on your towel feeling a tad nervous. Black stones were scattered at the bottom as the heat source, and just now you noticed small glass vials along the edge. The contents were of all sorts of colors, and the urge to smell them was strong in your soul. The Egyptians were so different from your people, with different smells, decorations, and an entirely unique society. No one seemed too close to one another, having only to speak when needed at a certain point in time, as seemed to be the case with Kazemde. Your father as leader would always speak with his people. He was friends with the village drunkard and priest all the same. How a society can function without knowing their citizens was troubling to you, but now was not the time to ponder.

You dipped a toe into the waters of the pool, surprised by the heat. It was warm, but not overbearingly so. The rest of your foot followed, landing on the first rough stair step. The next foot went in, and you could feel the soreness in your soles awaken then dull. The water splashed at your calves as you made your way down, the towel still covering you. It clung to your skin, making it difficult to walk. You turned back to Kazemde who was preoccupied with a flat wicker basket. She was arranging vials and smaller cloths upon it, taking care not to spill anything.

The final stair was reached, and the water came waist high. It was comforting, like a hug from Tefnut herself. There were stone seats in the bath as well, as though the people here used it for recreation and leisure more than a necessity. You sat down, adjusting the towel to cover your front. The waters moved about you, turning a light shade of brown. You looked to your right arm where chunks of old dirt and caked blood began to float off, revealing your old skin tone, as pure as ever. How it got to that point in such a short time was astounding.

You began to work at your arms, scratching off what you could. More and more flecks of brown began to litter the clear surface of the pool like an inverted night sky's stars. The sound of nearby footsteps caught your attention. Kazemde kneeled down next to you, her knees crunching from age. You shuddered at the sound, which caused her to chuckle ever so slightly.

"The perks of old age, dear. Now, tell me. Would you prefer floral, spice, or a musk? I have a few oils for you to choose from."

"Oils," you asked. "Why would I need oil?"

Using her nails, Kazemde pulled a small cork from a vial with a light orange colored liquid inside. She waved the cork under your nose, pushing the scent your way. This one was strong and earthy, like fresh rain and soil mixed with earthenware pottery. It smelled like your hut, you noted.

"These are bathing oils. In simple terms, they make you smell nice while helping clean your body." She resealed the orange oil, and pulled out a light pink one from under a rag. "That one was myrrh and carrot seed. Very earthy. One of our guardsmen prefers it. This, is lotus, rose, and jasmine. Very floral and feminine. Roses aren't easy to come by here, but I snuck this out for you to try anyway. It's not everyday we get someone like yourself through the palace doors."

She waved the cork under your nose again with a wrinkly wink. This one was lighter and delicate, fragile if a smell could be such a thing. You didn't want to let the woman down, you you pointed at the pink vial asking to use it. She nodded, a toothless smile gracing her lips. She was cute for an elder. A dark tan and deep wrinkles, but eyes that burned like fire. Her grey hair was kinked and curly and a thin scar ran down her right sheek to her jaw. She must have stories upon stories to tell, and you needed to hear them.

She dropped the rag into the pool, allowing you to reach for it. After wringing it out, you scrubbed at your arms forgetting about the towel covering you. More and more filth comes off, revealing a lovely shade of (skin tone). Kazemde used a soft sponge on your back. She carefully rubbed circles around the whip marks making sure to clean them well. You ached slightly, but it was to be expected.

A tap on your right shoulder made you look back, eyeing the woman curiously. "Your hair has to be washed too, dear. You shouldn't be submerged completely, so I'll pour water over you." She passed the pink vial to you, its cork still removed. "When your hair is wet, pour a bit of the oil in your hands and scrub."

Using a wooden pail, Kazemde scooped water from the pool and dumped it over you. The feeling was amazing, and you couldn't wait for it again. With your eyes shut, you guestimated how much oil you were using and poured it into your palm. Blindly reaching back, you handed off the vial to Kazemde and began to rub the oil in your hands. Quickly as so it wouldn't drip off, you brought your hands to your hair and began to work the oil in, massaging your scalp. You could feel more scabs but let them be, instead working out to the ends of your (length) hair. After a minute of scrubbing, Kazemde gave warning of another pour so you braced yourself. Another wash of warmth poured over you, taking away any pain you were having.

After scrubbing away all you could, you stepped out of the stone pool and shivered. There was a slight rush of wind, reminding you just how hot the water really was. You picked up a few towels and dried off while Kazemde turned away, giving privacy back to you.

You could hear a familiar voice from outside the door, calling out for someone. Kazemde opened it up, revealing a smiling Mana holding more bandages. The elder mentioned a gown was in the basket she had poolside, but before you could touch it Mana grabbed at your unscathed shoulder. Working quickly, she redid all the wrappings with a lighter layer of honey beneath therm. Adding a playful tap to the top of your head, she turned around to let you change.

The gown was soft white cotton, much lighter than the linen one you once wore. It fell to your ankles and allowed for plenty of space to move. It was very plain and not spectacular, but cozy. Mana turned back when you called her name, allowing her to get a good look at your form. She made a high pitched noise and spoke to Kazemde who could only smile and nod.

"She said that you look much better. I have to be going, (Name), but don't worry. Mana will take excellent care of you."

Quietly, the kind woman left. You already missed her and your ability to communicate with someone fully. Mana guided you through another doorway on the opposite side of the pool. This one led to a very similar hallway like the red one, but this was done in blue paintings. More symbols were painted throughout, none of which you understood.

The two of you rounded a corner and down the hall there was the man you saw yesterday: the golden one. He waved to Mana, who eagerly waved back. He called to Mana, having the two of you pause. Glancing to you and back to her, he pulled Mana away. He whispered a few things while glancing back every now and again with his eyebrows furrowed, earning an 'ooo' from Mana. She laughed, poking at his cape covered chest not even bothering to hide her response. He tried to keep her quiet while turning a darker shade in the face. He scowled at her, his nose crinkled and eyes stern while she didn't even react. You were curious, to say the least. Who was Mana, and how could she talk to this guy like that?

Laughing it off, Mana pulled back on your wrist leading you forward. She shouted something back to him, and he responded in jest. When you passed each other you looked back to him, curious. He too, was looking back with a tilted head. His steps paused, but yours had to continue on to keep up with Mana's tugging. Before you knew it, you were brought into another strange room, the silhouette of the golden man and the interaction still in your mind where it would stay for days to come.

A/N:

To Anonymous722002, thank you so so much for the kind words! I am doing much better now, thank you for your concern! I hope I can meet your expectations as I have quite a bit planned for future chapters though, it will be a slow burn. Hopefully this chapter made up for the last one, at least a bit.

Also, I am completely open to suggestion! I try to write week by week instead of pre-writing, as pre-writing doesn't allow for much change. This is also why I may be late on uploading. School and work tend to get in the way as well, but I'll keep posting! I'd love to hear your ideas for scenes and interactions, as I'm still a very new writer. If you have better tips for me, let me know!

Until next time, everyone!


	6. Ch 5: Accidents Happen

Mana had quickly led you into a room full of other people in plain white attire. A few tanned faced turned to you, looking curiously. She pointed out a tall and very muscular man with a shaved head, giving a quiet chip of reassurance after you shrunk down a bit. He was intimidating to say the least, what with his scowling face and upturned nose. Thin gold hoops looped around his neck, and a few more dangled from his ears. In his hand was the exact same weapon that haunted your dreams since your capture. He glared wordlessly at a young boy who held a broken pot.

The boy trembled, eyes never leaving the floor. His curly brown hair bounced with every nod of his head when the tall man spoke. His shendyt was stained a deep brown, gradating from the top to a cream color toward them bottom hem. The coloration was especially heavy in the lap area. It didn't look to be done out of fashion, though. It was patchy, with a thick crust forming you noted. The child spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't be any older than ten.

The shattering of pottery and a child's cry filled the room, hushing the few murmurers. Looking back up you noticed the man walking off, his back turned. On the ground was the bouncy haired boy who was now in tears. Lash marks crossed his soft face, bleeding profusely.

You looked to Mana, pleasing wordlessly to go back with her, hoping this was just a stop on a tour and you would continue on to another area. The cruelty was back, in plentiful quantities as well. Tears stung your eyes, making them glisten. Mana though, simply pushed forward. She held you by your wrist, tugging softly. She offered her hand to the room's corner, pointing out a familiar face.

Kazmde.

The old woman sat alone of a wooden bench, sewing a few pieces of linen together. Piles of fabric were gathered around her frail form, each piece giving of unique vibes. Some were torn, others were stained a wide array of colors. She flipped the garment inside out, revealing a fine white skirt. There were no signs of tattering or stainage like the others beside her. She tossed it into a basket, which was rushed off by another young child.

Mana pushed you past the crying boy who didn't even bother to look up. He simply curled his legs in, avoiding the footfalls and shards of pottery. Mana turned back to the child and picked him up gently by the underarms. She dusted him off and wiped the tears from his face, smearing blood in the process. She guided him to the exit, giving one final wave before leaving with him in tow.

A hoarse voice came from behind, startling you out of your thoughts. "Don't worry yourself, (Name). He'll be fine."

You looked to Kazemde, baffled. "How, though? I mean, that man just attacked his face of all places!" You blustered, huffing and giving off laughs of uncertainty, and of fear for your own wellbeing. How can she be so cold? First she barked at you about interrupting, then has the audacity to ignore a hurt child? All the while, she works on bathing you, or sewing like nothing happened.

"Don't give me that, girl," she scolded. "And watch your attitude. The walls have ears…"

You looked about yourself. The others in white were scattered, most carrying buckets of water out of the room. There was one man you noticed, though. He stood tall, hidden away from the average eye. This man looked strikingly similar to the one who left scars on the child's face. He too was bald or shaved, covered in a cream colored linen shawl. Gold shined from his upper arms and ears, along with a key shaped pendant that hung from his neck by a thick rope. Black markings spread from a centerpoint on his forehead, giving the impression of horns.

He stared back at you, blue eyes masked by shadow. One brow raised from curiosity, and you tilted your head in response whilst squinting to see him better, not bothering to hide that fact he had been noticed. You looked back over to Kazemde, who was back to work on her latest piece of cloth: a red stained undergarment. Deciding it was a good idea, you too, decided to work, or at least feign it for the time being.

Picking up a torn blanket, you asked Kazemde for a needle and thread. While she went to hunt one down on her workbench, you glanced back to the doorway. The man was gone, a spirit left to the winds. An elbow to the ribs guided your attention back to the woman at your side. A long, ceramic needle was waved in front of your face. From it, dangled a long piece of thread.

"It won't mend itself, you know." Kazemde chuckled to herself. She moved on to another red-dyed torn blanket. "Now, you won't be working with me forever. The driver tells you where to go and what is to be done." She paused, looking up toward the same doorway where the mysterious man was. "Ah, and here he comes now."

Heavy footsteps clumped through the hall. The angry man from earlier arrived, as snarly as ever. His eyes bore into you, reminding you of a boiling pool of mud. This image allowed a light giggle to pass, earning you a threatening whip at your feet. The tails lapped at your bare toes, making you yelp and jump back. This reaction made the driver smirk. He pulled his arm back, readying himself for another strike. Wide eyed and crouched, you stammered back, tripping over Kazemde's new pile of mended wares.

You hissed in pain. Despite landing in soft cloth, your back took most of the landing. The ache spread from the center, outward to your ribs. You sat back up, looking to the woman for help. Kazemde simply kept up her work, stitching a patch over a wide hole. Her cedar colored eyes hung low, their once burning shine now gone.

The driver waltzed over, smirking. His white teeth bore out, and his eyes were sparkling with malicious intent. He hauled you up by your collar, hunching down to meet eye to eye. He was mere centimeters from your nose, making you recoil back for a bit of personal space. He smelled like sweat, and tanned leather. Suiting for a ruthless man. Glancing down, you saw the whip was snuggily tucked away in his waistband. A handy place to keep it.

Roughly, he pulled you away from Kazemde's workbench, ripping your attention back to him. You looked back to her, and this time, she looked up with regret in her eyes. A tug at your jaw forced you to look back to the driver. He tossed you aside, your form landing next to a familiar wooden pail and rag. The man's gruff voice boomed, assaulting your ears. He jabbed a callused finger at the bucket, then the doorframe. You didn't even bother to think twice, the memories of a multi-tailed whip against bare flesh still fresh in your mind.

Grabbing the pail and rag you bolted out the door, water sloshing from the sides. You didn't know where he wanted you to go, but you'd be _damned_ if you were going to be found not cleaning at this point in time. In your haste, however, you knocked yourself and another over. The bucket flew from your grasp and hit the other person, soaking them.

Unfortunately, it was the last person you would want this to happen to. The Golden Man was sprawled out on the floor, his crown askew and fresh linens soaking in dirty water. He sat up, a hand grasping at his head. He was clearly dazed, attempting to get his bearings and swaying while doing such. You offered a hand to him, but before anything could happen an entire ensemble of guards rushed in, including the driver you tried to get away from.

Shouts came from all directions, and bodies rushed at you. Out of instinct, you tried to run but a set of tanned arms came from behind, wrapping around and halting all forms of movement. Panicking, you tried to apologize and explain but a hand grasped at your throat.

The driver approached the Golden Man, speaking in a tone you thought no one of his demeanor would be capable of. Soft, apologetic, and almost fearful. This was very short lived though as immediately upon rising, he drew his weapon. The little snakes were ready to strike, eager to rip flesh from bone. You could feel the aching in your back still, pleading for rest.

The guard pinning you kicked behind your knees, sending you down. Your hands didn't catch you in time, earning a sad crack from your jaw hitting tile. You braced yourself, hoping the pain would be quick.

After a lashless moment of silence, you heard harsh whispers from ahead. The Golden Man was holding the whip by the business end, preventing the driver from swinging. He was stern faced, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. You could only watch as the guards slowly dispersed, and the driver pale when the other spoke to him. You stayed low, trying to look inconspicuous.

Their conversation continued, though it was mostly one sided. As soon as it was over, the whip was released from the Golden Man's grip and the driver hurried back to his post. You caught the man's gaze once again, fascinated by his behavior. He looked much more calm this time, like when he was chatting with Mana. He paced over, and offered a jewelry covered hand.

You gaped at the gesture, and the amount of jewelry. Would it be okay to touch him? Was it a test? No one could offer a hand with fine beads and gems and not be asking for theft, right? Against better judgement though, you accepted. He helped you rise to your feet, which were being tickled by shallow puddles of water. He guided you back the the room you were in moments ago. His sandals squelched with every step, which was a new noise to you. It was difficult, but you managed to keep in you laughs, instead only giving quick chest heaves and exhales.

He looked over, a brow arched curiously. His hair was dampened, and linens clung to his form. Being honest with yourself, it was a good image… One you would have to cherish as it would probably never happen again. That though, was something you had thought much earlier as well.

You met him in the throne room, where he spared your life and sent you to be taken care of. It was a one time deal, you figured. Why would a king save someone from a foreign land, probably brought to him as a trophy, and why would he do it a second time? Especially when the driver was doing his job? Mana couldn't have said anything too important, and you doubt he had spoken to Kazemde. Hell, he probably didn't even know she existed like many other of his servants. They were there to be shadows. Unnoticed and careful, with simple tasks to fulfill.

The two of you re-entered the room where Kazemde sat, and the driver stood. Kazemde continued as nothing had happened, and the driver was verbally assaulting another servant, probably taking out his aggressions toward you on the poor boy. You noticed his hand was still tightly wrapped around your own, causing a light blush to tint your cheeks. He tugged at it, leading you back to ragged old woman. He gestured toward you, and spoke a few phrases to Kazemde. She smiled lightly, then chuckled to herself. It sounded like she gave a snarky comment back, judging by her tone. He chuckled in response, the conversation going on a while longer.

He glanced back and forth from Kazemde to you, violet eyes gleaming. He had thought of something, you could tell. You knew this look all too well from your old friends. They would make secret plans without you, only to suck you into one of their schemes or pull a practical joke. He wasn't as regal as he appeared to be, that's for sure. He has a kind soul, along with a mischievous personality it seemed. This would be an interesting life at the palace, you presumed.

Graciously, Kazemde bowed as best she could, mumbling a few words you couldn't understand. Deciding it was good to follow her example, you followed suit. Considering the Golden Man was still holding your hand, it brought him down a notch as well, causing the two of you to nearly bump heads. He quickly realized the situation and let go, brushing his hands over the blue of his tunic. He coughed, then took his leave, sandals still squelching.

 **Sorry about the delay, everyone. I had a few life issues come up, and they seem to want to persist... I may have to change my schedule for Barriers, which is unfortunate. I probably won't be super consistent, but I will try my hardest to be! I still plan to finish this story, no matter what. Plus, summer is coming up! I might be held up with working, but no where near what I am now.**

 **I'm trying to pick up the pace a bit, but I intended the** **story** **to be a slow burn. A very slow burn at that, hence why there's a bit more filler than I intended... Hopefully it doesn't deter from the story too much. Please, let me know what you think! Atem will be making very frequent appearances from now on though, so not to worry!**

 **Anonymous722002, thank you again for your kind words and encouragement! I am not entirely new to writing, but this is my first** **published** **story. I've been writing for myself since 2013, but was always afraid to post considering the backlash for OCs or reader inserts. They've become more popular though as of** **late** **, so I might add some older works in other fandoms too ^v^**

 **Thank you all for keeping up with me. I appreciate your patience, and keep on keeping on!**


	7. Chapter 6: Chores

You stared at Kazemde, impatiently waiting for answers as to what had just occurred. The king saved your life once again, and left leaving more questions to rattle around in your already throbbing head. The woman merely gave a toothless smirk, her face wrinkling up in the process. She chuckled lightheartedly before resuming her work once more.

For a moment, she hummed to herself. "I have to say, this has been an exciting day. You truly are a breath of fresh air to this palace," she said. "Oh, and before the driver gets mad, you might want to try and start your chores. He was telling you to clean a few rooms in the east wing. Just take this hall down, and keep going." Kazemde waved her needle bearing hand to the same opening the king marched out of. "Good luck, (Name)."

Deciding it was best, you didn't speak back. You simply took the instructions and went about your way regathering supplies. The bucket and cloth were still in the hall, soaking in the stagnating puddle. You stared at your reflection, (e/c) eyes staring back. No bruises were on your face, and you were still relatively clean from your earlier bath. It was fortunate, you thought.

Sighing, you picked up the pail and cloth, disturbing the peaceful pool. You wrung out the rag into the bucket and soaked up more water from the floor, repeating the process until the bucket was filled with a dark brown water. Slowly this time, you brought the supplies back to the room. Kazemde was still hard at work, and the driver was nowhere to be seen. A small tub of clean water was tucked away in the back, and considering the current state of the water you had, it was a good idea to change it.

You looked around, double checking to see if anyone was nearby. Presuming the answer was no, you dumped your bucket out a small window. With the satisfying sound of water hitting earth, you turned back to the tub and scooped out enough to fill your bucket. You knew it was a waste of water, but even your homeland changed dirty water for cleaner when it became too soiled. Considering the little bit of water you cleaned up was nearly pure filth, it was time to change.

With a light smile, you turned to Kazemde. She paused her mending to give off a quick 'shoo' gesture, all whilst smiling that all-knowing, toothless grin. You knew her for less than 24 hours, and she was already up to something. What it could be, who knows. She seemed to be playful in her older age...

'A breath of fresh air' rang in your head as you walked out. That woman seemed to have something to say about everything; good, bad, or otherwise. Her snarkiness was overshadowed by her kindness. A strange, but welcoming combination. Kazemde seemed to like you, Mana liked everyone, and even the King seemed intrigued. The people of this kingdom were characters to say the least.

You wandered down the hall, heading all the way to the back. This hall was the same as any other you've encountered thus far: a deep ochre sandstone painted red with more strange symbols. At the end of the hall though, a much grander painting surrounded double doors. Violet, blue, and green formed a flower curtain, and at the base were two full lioness statues. Their stone jaws were open, and their forms sat proudly on a raised platform. Chips of gold were stuck to them, the rest having fallen off some time ago.

You knocked, hearing an echo on the other side. No response came, so you entered. Naturally, the room was even more beautiful on the inside as it was on the out. You didn't even have to wonder who's it was, considering gold and violet were the main colors. A raised wooden bed was centered against the far wall. Animal pelts lined the base acting as a cushion and fancy woven blankets were tossed haphazardly on the floor. On the right wall was a large archway to the outside. Waist high guard rails went down the entire length blocking both exit, and entry. You peered over, trying to process as quickly as possible. It seemed the entire city below was in view, as well as the main gate.

You moved on, trying to get into the working mindset. Other decorations were strewn about, including many small tables and shelves to display vases, jars, statuettes, and jewelry. All of which were covered in a thick layer of dust and sand with the exception of more used objects. Silently, you began to clean.

Very carefully you worked around the room, starting with a large bookshelf. Thick scrolls were taken off and replaced once the shelf was clean, the small tables were wiped down top to bottom, and the king's bed was made as neatly as possible. Tucked away under the headboard were crafted bags of fluff, so you left them atop the blankets. You couldn't help but admire the high amount of craftsmanship of everything. The pillows had thin, beaded strands weaving up and down to form a spiraling pattern while the center was a fully embroidered red and blue falcon. The bed itself was carved recently, you could tell. No wear and tear, plus the style was different from the classic wooden mattresses. It seemed more lavish and comforting rather than to serve the simple purpose of 'don't touch the ground'. It was even plush, maybe stuffed with feathers or wool.

More than a few hours had passed by the time everything was finished. Give or take an hour for admiring the wealth and perhaps looking in boxes you shouldn't have. You left the room, pail in one hand and rag in the other. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead, and your stomach growled. Sore feet beat on tiled floor, and all joints ached. As tired as you were, a sense of pride filled you. You know you did a damn fine job on cleaning that room, top to bottom.

You played different scenarios in your head whilst walking back to Kazemde. In one, the driver was simply astounded by your work, leaving you to your own devices. In another, the King had you as his personal assistant rather than getting bruised knees from floor scrubbing. On your way, you crossed paths with a few other slaves. Their heads hung low like wilted flowers, lively spirits taken far before their time. You knew the situation. You knew you would be like them one day. But, you still hoped for the best. As always.

hr

/hr

The next day you rose to the shouts of the driver. Quickly you had a breakfast consisting of simple bread and water, grabbed your pail, then wandered off to the King's room once again before returning hours later to a crowded sleeping quarters. The cycle repeated for a day or two with nothing too exciting happening.

On the third day after breakfast, you grabbed your pail as usual. Yawning, you filled it with fresh water, paying no mind to the scowling driver behind you. Passing the rack of rags you picked one up and left the room, giving a quick wave to the lonely old woman in the corner.

You quickly made your way to the King's bedroom as to not waste time. After the few days you worked, you learned to pick up the pace. The driver didn't monitor you, in fact, no one did. There wasn't really a need to monitor, considering they couldn't talk to you anyway. Either way, you knew to work hard and fast. It was common sense. It was an odd thing though. No one even tried to communicate with you anymore. There was Kazemde, and only Kazemde. She made sure you knew the rules and your task. That was all.

You approached the familiar floral door and knocked, just as you have the past few times, and as usual, there was no answer. You went inside, making sure to keep the water pail steady. The room looked a bit more organized than usual today, you noticed. Nick nacks were placed neatly on the shelf, and there were just a few stray pieces of cloth on the floor. The bed was even half way put together, which was the biggest change. The furs were tossed on the mattress rather than the floor, and the pillows were propped up by the headboard. You gave a light smile at this, and went about your work.

Starting with the bed, you fixed up the fancy blankets and rearranged the pillows into their normal fashion. Moving to the bookshelf, you gave a good dusting to the small golden figures and placed them in a little scene. Two winged cat-persons on either side of a bigger, and much more beautiful winged woman. Simple, but at least it looked better.

Before you knew it, all the work was done. It seemed the little bit the King did helped tremendously. Plus the daily cleaning made things much, much easier. Breathing a sigh of relief, you headed to the door to leave. Maybe today you could get dinner for finishing up early. You've already lost a lot of weight, and any more would be unhealthy.

As you opened the door, you came face to face with a shocked Pharoah. He didn't expect someone in his private quarters, you could tell. You gave a soft um before bowing as Kazemde showed you, and tried to hurry past. He blocked the exit easily, and with one swift movement he grabbed your free hand.

"Wait", he ordered.

You snapped your head up, eyes wide. He spoke in your own tongue..? Your jaw slackened, lips parting slightly in awe, and confusion.

The King paused, looking deep in thought. He tried to say something, but stopped before getting the sound out. He tensed up, long fingers tightening around your wrist. He turned a darker shade of tan, glancing downward. He released you from his iron grip, tossing your arm down in frustration. He shoved past you, grumbling in his own language.

You stood in the doorway, confused. Looking back to him, he was already face down on the bed you made, legs limply hanging off the edge. You took this as a sign to leave, tip toeing your way out.

 **Hello again everyone! I sincerely apologize for my absence as of late. I've just been so busy..! A slower chapter for you all this time, but as always with a slow chapter, a better one awaits you next time on Barriers!**

 **As always, feel free to let me know how I'm doing. The setting has changed a lot from the violent start, but I hope that's alright. I don't want to mislead anyone.**

 **Anyway, I'll see you all again soon, and enjoy your Summer!**

 **~Jiyaii P.**


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